


loose lips

by thebrotherswholoved



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Sam, M/M, Mpreg, Requested, Top Dean, Tumblr: thebrotherswholoved, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 14:09:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16976040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebrotherswholoved/pseuds/thebrotherswholoved
Summary: requested by @/1979.1983.deans.bby.boy.wncest on instagram: "maybe sam finds out he's pregnant...and tries to hide it, failing badly?"rated t for language and some potentially upsetting content





	loose lips

**Author's Note:**

> note: I know this moves really fast but it’s finals week next week and I have seven exams to study for and I can’t afford to write another ten-thousand-word fanfic

"No, no, no, no, fuck...fuck this is bad, this is really, really bad."

 

Sam rakes his fingers through tangled hair, a habit he has when anxious—and hell, he's threat-level-red anxious right now. All he can do is stare down at the off-white tile counter of one of the Men of Letters' washrooms, helpless and oh-so-desperate. He's desperate for this to end, for his normal life to come back...for this all to disappear.

 

This shouldn't have happened. None of this should ever, EVER had happened. If he could turn back the clock and change that night so that he never laid shaky hands on Dean's toned chest, or felt the sticky-sweet sheen of sweat between them as they did the unthinkable, he would. He doesn't want this. He couldn't want anything less!

 

He knows his life is over: it's evident in his face when he rereads the test results for the eighth time, not daring to touch them like they might explode. He wishes they'd explode, or turn to dust—anything to make this nightmare vaporise. His life was far, far from perfect, with his painful and awkward relationship with his brother and all the burdens of life on the road, but he'd rather fight a whole nest of alpha vampires alone than deal with this...thing. Burden. Mistake. Freak.

 

 _Freak_.

 

Okay, his brain has crossed a line. It's as though all the gears in his head shifted at the right time and got things back in working order upstairs. Shaking his head, he goes down a spiral of regret for thinking such horrible things. Yeah, sure, he might be helpless and scared out of his mind, but there's someone else involved and they're ten thousand times more helpless. He feels like absolute shit for thinking those things about...well, about his child.

 

God, it seems like staring at those three white sticks for long enough has triggered his paternal instincts.

 

"I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry." Sam bursts into tears and leans over the sink. It seems like he's talking to the mirror or some invisible force, but he's talking to someone he's never met and, up until two seconds ago, never wanted to meet. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean those things. I just...I'm so scared. I don't know what to do."

 

Deep down, he knows exactly what to do. This hunting life ends one way and one way only: bloody. It ends in guts on the pavement, blood on a blade, the eyes of the enemy lighting up with laughter at the "immortal" Winchester's defeat. Being rational, he can comprehend that the best thing to do for everyone is to get an abortion. Getting rid of this whole situation would save everyone pain...but could he live with the guilt? Could he go on and continue to take lives while knowing inside that he gave up his chance at giving a life? Probably, but does he want to?

 

The answer, he concludes, is no.

 

So, that decision has been made. He's keeping the baby. If all goes well, he'll be a parent in...fuck, he has no idea how far along he is. He guesses he has to be around two months gone given the timing, but then again, who can be sure? A doctor can be sure—he should probably get on that. He hasn't seen a doctor in, shit, five years? It seems crazy that he's not going to be going for his own health, but for that of this new little life.

 

Sam's face goes pale and he just about faints. How could he forget?

 

"Dean..."

 

His brain is crawling with thoughts, which are gnawing at him like termites. _Fuck_ , _fuck_ , _fuck,_ _what_ _am_ _I_ _gonna_ _do_? _I_ _can't_ _just_ _tell_ _him_ — _what'd_ _I_ _even_ _say_? " _Hey_ , _Dean_ , _remember_ _that_ _time_ _we_ _had_ _sex_ _in_ _Charleston_? _Well_ , _guess_ _what_ , _you're_ _gonna_ _be_ _a_ _dad_!" _No_. _That_ _wouldn't_ _go_ _well_. _Oh_ , _god_ , _he's_ _gonna_ _kill_ _me_. 

 

It takes a knock on the door to start a system reboot inside his noggin. The knock sounds again, harsher this time, followed by a gruff laugh and mocking breath.

 

"Dude, you jerking off or something in there?"

 

Fuck. It's Dean. The other father of the baby he just found out about. God, could Chuck just PLEASE ease up on him for five minutes?

 

"What? No! I-I'll be out in...I'll be out in a sec," he bends forward and takes deep breaths. Of course this happens now—just add to the shitshow, why don't you!

 

The bowlegged hunter grunts in disapproval and Sam listens for his heavy footsteps to depart before he yanks the tap on and falls to him knees in front of the toilet for the second time today. Well, there goes his lunch...and his sanity.

 

Sam's morning sickness is just the thing to make it all seem just as real as it actually is. This isn't a daydream—this is real life. He's gambling with not one chip but two now, and that's terrifying. The only coherent thoughts on the matter he can find are "you have to keep them safe" and "you love them."

 

Does he love them? Can he possibly love this baby he just found out about ten minutes ago? Well, to Sam, it's definitely possible; this is evident in the way his hand falls over his lower stomach and his dimples deepen as he smiles.

 

He loves this kid.

 

Finally gathering himself off the cold linoleum floor, he stands on wobbly feet and turns off the tap. The silence is what gets the ringing back in his ears, but he doesn't care. His hand reaches for the doorknob, but he can't seem to unlock it and go outside into the main room.

 

His angel and demon are at it again. Sam wants nothing more than to run into Dean's arms and tell him that they're going to be parents. He pictures him crying and being happy about the news, all giddy and excited as he kisses his stomach. On the other hand, he wants to keep this baby safe. Dean is like a bear: if you don't poke him, you're good. This bombshell will be like poking him with a harpoon. He doesn't know how he'll react, or if how he reacts will put him and the baby in danger.

 

The dice have been rolled: he's keeping this a secret for as long as possible. He will book his doctor appointments for early in the morning, conceal his nauseous fits, hide his bump under sweatshirts and shit—he'll do anything and everything to hide this from everyone who could potentially do them harm.

 

"I-I love you, little one. I love you so much and I'm gonna do everything to keep you safe, okay? I promise," he assures someone he knows can't possibly hear him, much less respond. To him, it's enough just knowing that they exist.

 

One breath, two breaths, lock turned, door opened. Suddenly his reality is there and his plan is set into motion. The pregnancy tests rest in his back pocket for safekeeping and he wanders to the bed closest to the wall. It's late—at least nine o'clock judging by the darkness outside and the number of beer bottles accumulated on the table. He wants to sleep and plan and scheme against Fate and her army of killjoys, but unfortunately for him, Dean's not letting him off the hook that easily.

 

"You good?" He chucks a wad of paper into the bin from his seat at the table. "Or should I ask if your dick is good?"

 

"Just shut up," Sam grumbles. Jesus, that's kind-of harsh.

 

Dean puts his hands up in defence and scoffs. "Since when are you such a buzzkill?"

 

 _Oh_ , _I_ _don't_ _know_ , _maybe_ _since_ _you_ _knocked_ me _up?_

 

"Since right now."

 

"You on your period or somethin'?" He jokes. Sam, however, does not find the humor in his remark. Why is his brother so fucking annoying to him now? He's always been annoying! He sucks at this whole lay-low-for-the-baby thing.

 

The younger grunts and rolls over, arm around his waist. "Literally the exact opposite."

 

"What was that, bitchface?" Dean squeaks his chair as he stands up. He walks over to the other queen bed and plops himself down.

 

Sam pauses. What's the cautious thing to say? "Nothin'."

 

"Jeez, you are a real asshole today. What's up with you, man?"

 

Oh sweet Jesus, he has pushed every last button on the panel. It's only taken a few minutes with the baby daddy for him to abandon the safe plan and snap at Dean.

 

"You know what?" He sits up and turns around, anger in his eyes like hellfire. "What's "up with me" isn't just me, okay? So you're gonna get a lot of this shitty new me in the next few months, and if you don't like it, there's the fucking door!"

 

Now, here come the tears. He's adopting all the characteristics of a Hallmark movie protagonist. Rolling over, he shuts out the world and tries not to let his shoulders shake with emotion. His right hand rubs soothing circles around his midsection, still flat, and wishes he could be left alone. Rather, he wishes _they_ could be left alone.

 

Dean has lost any trace of sarcasm he'd stored away for the winter. Seeing his Sammy so helpless and beaten down has him ready to die. Has he done this? He can't live with himself if he's done this to Sam, made him hurt this badly.

 

"Sammy, I'm sorry," he whispers, moving over to sit by his little brother with so much caution one would think he's trying to tame a lion. "I don't know what I'm sorry for, but I'm sorry. Can I do anything? Can I help?"

 

It's been a half hour since he's found out about the pregnancy and he's already about to go against his plan. So much for being strong willed. He flops over onto his back and his arm stays in the same position over his abdomen—he doesn't care, though.

 

"I don't think you can help."

 

He can't say he's shocked—Sam's always been guarded—but Dean wants to make his brother's pain go away. "Why not, Sam? There has to be something I can do. You're obviously sick, you had a mental breakdown in the bathroom, and now you're a depressed lump on _my_ bed. So tell me—"

 

"I'm pregnant," Sam murmurs in the middle of Dean's empathy-rant.

 

Silence ensues as the older brother tries to figure out what just happened. Did he really just say that? He has to be joking. But it makes total sense. If it's true, who's the other dad?

 

"A-are you...are you serious?" Dean whispers in disbelief. Sam nods and holds the three positive tests in a fan formation to show the proof of their baby. Dean’s not able to see the good in a situation like this. His little brother getting knocked up by a stranger? He’s shocked, scared, and pissed. Putting his head in his hands, he exhales in a long sigh. "Whose is it?"

 

Sam shakes his head. "What?"

 

"Come on, Sam! Who did this to you?! Who fucked up your life like this?! I'm gonna rip his lungs out! Why would you do this to yourself?! How could you let yourself get knocked up?!"

 

His voice is harsh, angry, and scary enough to make Sam cry all over again. He guards his stomach with his life and winces for the punch he knows is going to come. He wants to beam this child to another planet right now to keep them safe from the fiery wrath of their other father.

 

Dean? Well, Dean feels like shit. He made his little brother cry. He made his pregnant little brother cry. God, and now he has to watch as his verbal abuse breaks him down all over again. He doesn't exactly know why, but seeing Sam shield his stomach from harm—from _his_ hands—makes him want to die.

 

"Oh, god, Sammy, I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry," he sits down, tears in his eyes. "I didn't mean it. Any of it. This isn't a fuck up, Sam, this is...this is wonderful. I mean, you're creating a human being. I don't care whose it is, I—"

 

"Dean, it's you," Sam takes a deep breath in and hiccoughs, still keeping both arms around his midsection to protect the little life inside. "You're their other dad. I d-didn't tell you before because I didn't want you to...well, react like how you did. I only just found out about them but I love them so much and...j-just please don't hurt us. Don't hurt them."

 

Dean can almost feel his organs shutting down. It's like an earthquake hit and the lightbulb in his brain is flickering. His thoughts are just jumbles of nonsense and a mixture of excitement, terror, and anxiety. Overall he just can't believe it.

 

He doesn't realize he's crying until he feels a teardrop hit the corner of his lips. He turns to Sam and sniffles a bit, wiping his tears on his jacket collar. Sam looks so, so scared...and that's the absolute worst part about all this. He looks so petrified, fingers gripping the sides of his shirt to tighten his arms around himself, creating a shield between the baby and Dean, his worst fear in this moment.

 

He's scared him, made him think that he'd hurt him, that he'd reject him or them both, or that he'd take matters into his own hands. He wants to vomit at the mere thought of doing that. Fuck, he's made him think that he wouldn't want this...because he does. He wants this, there's no doubt about it. Goddamn, it's all he wants at this very second. Screw Lucifer and his cage drama, he's going to be a dad.

 

"I'd never hurt you. You know that, right? Ever. If I ever did, I wouldn't be able to live with myself. I'm so fucking sorry that...that I made you think that I'd h-hurt you both. I couldn't...god, I would never, ever hurt you or our baby, Sam. I love you too much to even think about it." He's bawling now, head in his hands like a child getting reprimanded.

 

The longest silence either of them is trapped between the thick wall of emotion as Sam processes these words, this sincere and loving apology. He wants to be there for their baby, he said it himself...wait, what? 

 

"Hold on—Dean, did you just say 'our baby?' Do you _actually_ love me?" The brunette asks, death-grip on his shirt loosening.

 

Dean stares wide-eyed at the comforter of the bed before lifting his red eyes to Sam's. "Yeah. I do. More than anything. I don't care how hard it's gonna be or how complicated it gets, I want this. I want you. I want both of you, and I never wanna let you go. I wanna be there for our baby, Sammy. But only if you want it. I don't wanna force this on you. God knows I've really fucked your life up already."

 

Sam shakes his head and leans in ever so slightly. Dean takes the hint and tucks his hand under the other's chin, lifting his lips to his own. The kiss isn't like fireworks or confetti. It's sweet and warm and says 'I forgive you.' It’s an apology and it’s a promise.

 

When they part, Sam takes his soulmate's hand. "You didn't. You gave me this. I want our baby and you more than anything else in the world."

 

The blonde man smiles like he just saw heaven and leans Sam down onto the pillows so he can lay between his legs. The younger can feel goosebumps as his brother's hand trails up his side, and his heart flutters when he sees Dean place a kiss on his flat stomach, a content grin on his face.

 

He's really, really glad he sucks at keeping secrets.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed!! if you did, I encourage you to tap that lil heart button or leave a comment (only if you want)


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